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by usuallysunny



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 13:33:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17829515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usuallysunny/pseuds/usuallysunny
Summary: Mac smuggles a gun into Dennis’ hand luggage and thinks he’s wicked smart, because now Dennis can’t visit Brian Jr and he can’t leave and not come back again.It doesn’t matter that it’s a water gun and now he has to pick a very annoyed Dennis up from the airport.It’s worth it. He stays.





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: One homophobic slur because Dennis is, always and forever, a bastard man

 

The ride back from the airport is unbearably tense, awkward silence stretching out between them.

Mac’s eyes travel nervously to Dennis and he opens his mouth and shuts it again. He thinks he probably looks like a stupid fish, like Dee, but it doesn’t matter because Dennis isn’t looking at him anyway.

He’s staring straight ahead, at the road, and Mac watches a muscle near his right ear tick as he clenches the strong line of his jaw.

Mac keeps his mouth firmly shut. He’s clearly angry and Mac has a date tomorrow, so he really doesn’t feel like getting scratched tonight.

Dennis’ hands are curling around the steering wheel, so tight his knuckles are turning white.  Mac drove the Range Rover here but wasn’t allowed to drive it back, was basically thrown into the passenger seat with a stream of muttered curses – some he’s used to, some he’s sure he’s never heard of before.

When they reach the apartment, the click of the lock as Dennis opens the door is deafening.

He half expects it to slam in his face, for that vein to pop in Dennis’ forehead as his temper snaps like an elastic band and he shrieks at him to get out.

Instead, the door is left open and when Mac sheepishly walks in and shuts it behind him, he notices Dennis _doesn’t_ look angry.

He looks exasperated and sad and _tired._

He rubs a hand over his face and his cheekbones look gaunt and his eyes are dull. Mac makes a mental note to ask when he last ate, but he stays quiet for now.

“You’re a stupid son of a bitch, you know that?”

His voice is soft but menacing and a chill travels through Mac’s bones.

“Sorry," he grumbles, suddenly finding his shoes very interesting. 

Dennis quirks a brow.

“Are you?”

_No._

“Yeah.”

“What _exactly_ did you think would happen?” Dennis hisses, his voice sharp, like bullets from a gun and just as painful, “I’m just going to get another flight. And _you’re_ going to pay for it, you asshole.”

Mac shuffles on his feet, his mouth forming into a sulky pout.

“It was an accident!” he blurts out entirely unconvincingly, “I—I meant to pack it in my bag for work ‘cos me and Charlie were gonna have this totally badass fight in the alley out back and I thought water guns would make it more better. I didn’t mean to put it in _your_ bag, dude. They just got mixed up.”

Dennis crosses his arms over his chest and that eyebrow is still quirked and Mac _hates_ it when he looks at him like that.

“And I suppose you didn’t mean to hide my passport either? Or take twice as long to get me to the airport because you were taking the _scenic route,"_  he curls his fingers in quotation marks, “Newsflash asshole - you don’t _need_ a passport to travel cross country and Philly doesn’t _have_ a scenic route.”

Mac’s nose scrunches up in shame and he averts his eyes to the floor. It’s true... he did all those things... and now Dennis is mad and he'll never let him drive the Range Rover again.

“You realise I was supposed to take care of Brian tonight because Mandy’s at work?” Dennis asks and Mac shakes his head because no, he didn’t know that, “but because I missed my flight – because I had to explain to the TSA officers why I had a fucking _water gun_ in my hand luggage – and there were no more today, I have to wait until tomorrow. So, Mandy has to call in sick and I can’t spend another night with my son, because of _you._ Don’t you get it, you stupid, stupid idiot? She already doesn’t trust me. She already thinks I’m unreliable for skipping town without a word. I mean, you have _one, tiny_ breakdown in the middle of a supermarket and miss _a few_ court-ordered therapy sessions and suddenly—”

Dennis' mouth slams shut and he screws his eyes as his rambling comes to an abrupt end. Mac’s silent too – because it’s been weeks since he’s heard Dennis talk so much and certainly never about _that._

He breaks the silence with a heavy sigh, before he just outright asks.

“Dude… what the hell happened in North Dakota?”

Something dark passes over Dennis’ face as he blinks back to reality and for a moment, Mac’s actually afraid of him.

“None of your _fucking_ business,” he spits, aggressively pushing past him, “Leave me alone.”

He storms into his room and he slams the door so hard, it shakes in its frame. 

 

 

He doesn’t leave him alone - because he’s Mac and he’s Dennis - and leaving each other alone is how they got into this mess in the first place.

Instead, he has two beers and watches half of Predator, before he knocks on his bedroom door.

“Fuck off.”

Dennis’ reply is biting, even through the wood.

He should know by now that never works, so Mac just opens the door anyway.

Dennis is sitting on the edge of his bed. If he’s surprised by Mac’s utter lack of boundaries, he doesn’t show it.

If it’s possible, he looks even thinner and sadder and more tired, and guilt joins in with the shame swirling in the pit of Mac’s stomach.

“I’m sorry, bro,” he says.

This time he means it.

Maybe Dennis can tell because the crease in his brow smooths out slightly.

“I wanted to see my son, Mac.”

His tone is so simple, so candid, Mac thinks it might be the only genuine thing he’s ever said.

“I know. I guess I just…” Mac’s always felt too many things at once, always struggled with the conflicting emotions that rocket through his body like hurricanes, and he trips over his own tongue, “I didn’t want you to.”

_I'm scared you won't come back._

It’s a lame excuse – not an excuse at all, really – and Dennis isn’t buying it.

“Whatever. I don’t want to get into it,” he dismisses with a wave of his hand, “Just—leave me alone for a while.”

Something inside Mac stirs and he’s irrationally angry, limbs buzzing with characteristically random energy.

“You never want to “get into it”, dude. Maybe it’s time we did.”

“What are you talking about?” he asks, though Mac’s pretty sure he knows.

“You just left!” he explodes, “You were just—you were there and then you weren’t and I don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand, Mac?” Dennis asks unkindly, standing up and practically sneering at him, “Hmm? What can’t you wrap your thick head around?”

Mac’s eye twitches at the insult.

“How you could just do that! How you could up and leave, like I—like _we_ mean nothing to you. All for people you’ve known for a moment, a second. You’ve _always_ known me.”

“People?” Dennis repeats incredulously, “They’re my son and his mother! My _family!_ ”

The word cuts like a knife and Mac’s eyes burn. He feels left out, left behind, because Dennis has _always_ been the only family he’s ever needed.

“And I’m your best friend” is all he can think to say and it’s lame and stupid because he’s _so much more_ than that. Even if Dennis won’t admit it.

They’re going around in circles and Dennis pinches the bridge of his nose.

“So what? You’re just gonna find ways to stop me seeing Brian again? Don’t you think that kind of makes you an asshole?”

Mac nods because he definitely _does_ feel that way. If Dennis wants to do better, wants to be a Dad, that’s good, that’s great. Mac knows how it feels to have a father who doesn’t care, to desperately want one who does.

It makes him a bit sick to think he wanted to deprive Brian Jr of that. All because he’s selfish and because he needs Dennis too much to share him.

He remembers something Dee had squawked years back – _“it’s perfectly natural for two grown men to need each other this badly”_ – and he guesses he never thought there’d come a time when that would change.

“I guess I was just afraid.”

Mac admits quietly and the words sound wrong on his tongue.

He’s so used to being brave and tough, of ocular pat-downs and keeping everyone safe. He might not be as big as a skyscraper any more, but he’s still strong, still the Sheriff of Paddy’s…

But deep down, he thinks he’s been afraid for a very long time.

“Afraid?” Dennis questions, looking unimpressed, “of a three year old?”

“Afraid of _you!_ ” he bites back without even meaning to, “of you and the way you make me feel. I hate you. I fucking hate you and I hate that you left and I hate even more that you came back.”

Dennis pauses, something flickering over his face. It’s something unsure, something uneasy, but it’s gone before Mac can fully decipher what it means.

“Well, that’s just fine,” his expression hardens and twists into something devastating, “Jesus Christ, Mac. Just because you’re gay now doesn’t mean you have to be such a faggot.”

Mac falters for a moment, disbelieving, before he snaps.

“Goddamn, you son of a bitch,” he takes a step back, like the slur has physically burned him, “I’ve been stupid for so long. I don’t wanna be stupid no more. I can’t keep doing this. Just go, and do me a favour? This time, stay gone.”

He turns on his heel, his eyes stinging with hot tears.

He blinks them back because he’s a badass and badasses don’t cry.

“Wait.”

Dennis calls after him.

Mac turns around because he can’t help it, because he’s always craved his attention, no matter what.

“I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.” The muscles in Dennis’ face twitch and his mouth kind of downturns, like he’s never said the word before.

“So am I.”

“Mac," he sighs, his shoulders slumping, “I came back, didn’t I? I know I left, I know that probably… hurt you, but I came back too. Shouldn’t that count for something?”  

He looks uncomfortable, like he’s given too much of himself away, and Mac knows it’s the closest thing he’ll ever get to an explanation.

“Why did you come back?” Mac takes a step forward, suddenly bold, “if you won’t tell me why you left, at least tell me that. Be honest, for once in your goddamn life.”

Dennis’ jaw clenches and his eyes seem to flash.

“You wanna talk about honesty?” he laughs but it’s cold and hollow and so very _Dennis,_ “when _you’re_ the one who’s been lying since I got back?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Rex!” Dennis practically shrieks, “You’ve been dating Rex for months and _lying_ to me about it.”

Mac scoffs in disbelief.

“I haven’t been _lying._ I just… neglected to tell you. It’s none of your business. How do you even know that?”

 

_“He’s dating.” Dee had said casually, examining her week old manicure. “He’s dating Rex.”_

_“Who?” Dennis snaps impatiently._

_“Rex,” Dee repeats blankly, like he’s dim or hard of hearing, “The cardio-turkey from that Billboard Contest Paddy’s held a while back. I banged him a few times, as well.”_

_Dennis wracks his brain._

_Is he to remember every man that walks in and out of his bar and his sister’s slutty life?_

_“And before you start,” Dee is babbling again, “He’s bi. He’s always been bi. My bony bird body did not turn him gay, so you can just shut the fuck up.”_

_“I wasn’t going to say anything.” Dennis rolls his eyes. It’s true. He’s not in the mood to taunt her about her sharp edges or her propensity to turn men to the other side._

_He’s too busy wondering when Mac replaced him – and how he missed it._

 

“Dee’s got a big mouth.”

Mac shifts but he refuses to be embarrassed.

“Well. Now you know.”

“She also said you had dinner the other night. She told me what you talked about.”

His expression takes on a deeper meaning and Mac’s stomach drops.

 

_“I had dinner with Mac last night.”_

_Dennis snorts, uncaring. “Wasted his night off with you, did he?”_

_Dee’s eyes narrow and her expression is ice cold. Dennis thinks it’s like looking in a mirror._

_“He’s in love with you, you know.”_

_Her mouth tips up into a cruel smile and Dennis’ breath feels shallow in his chest._

_If that was supposed to be a retaliation, supposed to hurt him, she’s stupider than he gave her credit for._

_He doesn’t feel things, remember?_

_“I know.”_

_He’s easy – breezy – and Dee almost looks disappointed._

_“He didn’t offer to raise Brian Jr to keep up pretences. He didn’t get fit for himself or Rex or the bar. He did it for you.”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“He wants you to be happy.” Her voice is quieter now and Dennis wants to wring her neck because she’s never, ever cared before and he doesn’t want to think about these things, “He wants you to stay, despite all the pain you’ve caused him.”_

_“Shut up, Dee.” Dennis sighs, “Just. Stop talking.”_

 

“Nothing you didn’t already know.” Mac says softly, looking like he’s lost a battle.

The air suddenly feels thick with the weight of everything left unsaid.

Mac turns to leave again and Dennis’ body acts without his permission. He grabs his arm and forces him to stay.

“I came back because—” he sighs in irritation, “—because I was miserable in North Dakota. I missed Philly and the Gang. It’s that simple.”

Really, it’s even simpler.

He missed _Mac._

In this sick, manic way, he missed him.

His stupid smell, the way he wore three colognes to try and impress him, the way he smiled and the way he argued and the way he called him out on the important shit but let the other shit slide. He missed the way he peeled his apples so he wouldn’t get sick and the way he stared at him like he was the most important person in the universe. He missed movie nights and those stupid, random bursts of energy and those even more stupid karate moves. He missed the too-much gel in his hair and the sleeveless shirts, but mostly he missed the way Mac _loved_ him, because of all the things he wasn’t sure of anymore, he was sure that he did.

_Does._

He’s always prided himself on understanding his emotions. A golden god is nothing if not self-aware, after-all, and it’s not difficult when those emotions are few and far between. So, Dennis came back because he knew he’d only ever be (at least halfway) whole with Mac and the Gang by his side.

Mac isn’t as stupid as everyone thinks he is because he reads all of this in the expression Dennis makes.

He takes a step forward and hesitantly reaches for his hand.

“It’s okay.”

His voice is soft, quiet, and he touches him like he’s a startled deer who might bolt at any second.

Dennis is turned to stone, jaw clenched tight and hands even tighter at his sides.

Mac massages his right hand until it loosens enough that his finger can slip in. He tugs him closer, sensing he’s on the brink of an episode and knowing how to calm him down. Eventually, he’s pliant enough that he can entwine their fingers.

Mac’s eyes flicker from Dennis’ cold blue to his mouth and back again. He’s strangely confident, not nervous at all, and it feels like he’s been preparing for this moment his entire life.

Or at least since a spoilt rich kid sat down under the bleachers next to a loser weed dealer and never left.

“It’s okay," he repeats, so close now that his warm breath washes over him.

He sees the movement of Dennis’ Adam’s apple as he swallows past the lump in his throat.

“No,” he mutters when Mac finally moves in, their mouths brushing, hot and electric. His hands travel to Mac’s waist, like he needs to anchor himself, “I can’t.”

“You can.”

“It hurts.”

Mac releases a sigh, touching his forehead to his.

“You’re okay," he changes the wording this time, “you’re good, man.”

Maybe Mac didn’t mean it that way but the praise gets to Dennis, who’s only ever thought he’s bad, and he crashes his mouth to his.

There are no bells ringing, no fireworks or dulcet choir of singing birds. Things don’t just snap easily into place. It’s messy and desperate, too much teeth and tongue. Mac sighs into his mouth and Dennis slips his tongue inside, hands tightening around his waist.

Before Mac knows it, they’re tugging at each other’s belts, hastily pulling them through the loops without detaching mouths. He doesn’t want to think too much about what’s happening, about what it all means, because he’s rock hard and _somehow_ Dennis is too.

 _I did that,_ he thinks in awe, like it’s the best thing he’s ever done,  _I made you hard._

Dennis swipes his legs out from under him and Mac lets out an entirely manly grunt. Then Dennis is on top of him and he’s not sure whether he did it on purpose and he doesn’t care, because he can feel the entire length of his body pressed against him. 

He kisses him again, hot and open mouthed, and his hips start to move and grind.

Mac’s head tips back, a breathy moan escaping him. Deep down, he knows he’s better than this. Better than a quick dry hump on the floor with the most damaged man he’s ever known. A man who’s cruel and cold - who will always hurt him and never _really_ love him back. He’s betraying Rex and he’s betraying _himself._

Dennis doesn’t see it that way, as he slips his hand inside his best friend’s pants and grips his dick for the first time.

Because deep down, he’s sure that if he could love anyone, it would be Mac.

He wants to show him this, wants him to know, so he kisses him again and pumps his fist harder.

“Fuck, Den…”

“That’s it, baby,” he breathes against his mouth, “I’m here.”

“You’re here.” Mac repeats deliriously, like he can't believe it, "Don’t ever leave.”

“I have to see Brian Jr. You can’t stop me again.” Dennis says unapologetically because despite everything, despite pretending that he doesn’t care, he’s grown fond of the little shit.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mac agrees wholeheartedly, “just come back.”

Dennis nods.

“Stay.” Mac repeats once more.

He nods again and he _feels_ something, like he’s a goddamn fourteen-year-old kid again.

“Always.”

And when Mac comes and whispers a breathy “I love you” into his neck, Dennis finally feels at home. 

**Author's Note:**

> I know airports don't really work this way, like they would've confiscated the gun and Dennis would've been on his merry way, but... plot armour? allow it for these two co-dependent babies? pretty please


End file.
